It's All Down Hill From Here

This is the first (to state the obvious) but it may also be the last. It all depends on how this takes my fancy and to what purpose it serves me. A possibility of validation from my peers (That is if I choose to show them)? So then a possibility of validation from a lover of reading random peoples blogs (A shot in the dark but I welcome all random blog lovers)? But it could be that there is some use in devulging all to a blank slate. To state your musings, problems, theses and general musings on your life. For to purge your mind of thoughts must be bliss as it seems most thoughts and almost all processes of thinking bring there own problems. Right now my brain is insisting (as it often does) on repeating one line from a particularly addictive and not particularly good song, I'll spare you the torture of telling you the song. But the origin I believe is from too many mindless nights out in town not truly paying attention to the music so it is embedded in your subconcious bubbling up to your hyperconciousness (not a real word but i do like it).
So I guess its time to get to know your blogger. Im rarely portrayed as a saint or a man of conviction. Right now I have on in the background Braveheart playing and I dont think I could be as stoic as him and stick to my convictions under torture or even inspire an army to march for "FREEEEEEEDDDOOOOMMMMMMM!!!!!!" (Sorry couldn't help myself). But I wont hold this against myself as I dont believe many people could. This does remind me of something about my father which hopefully will stick by me for the duration of my life. It was the aftermath of a barbeque and me, my dad, my best friend Mark and my brother Matt all sitting on the pateo furniture on the (wait for it) pateo. The only light was from the flames of the hearth in which we threw old bits of wood and the odd bit of paper rubbish. So we all had an orange tint that danced around our faces and glinted of our cans of whichever tipple we prefered (my dad: John Smiths, my brother: Fosters, my best friend and I: Carlsberg). And we were talking about our families, obviously the Bilton family took centre stage as there was three of us to the Smiths families one, and the subject of my mum came up (my mum at this point as usual at barbeques had gotten drunk then gone to bed, the big porcelain phone will have some talking to in the morning, it wouldnt be a proper barbeque without it). And my brother posed the question to my father, "What would you do if mum cheated on you?" And without a moments hesitation and not merely a heart beat had passed in which my dad replied with no emphasis or outrage, "she'd be out the house." Now this left me awe struck to see someone with such convictions. That this man, my father, had such a view that he would not flinch, despite it meaning he would lose the woman he loved. To me this made me prouder than anything else my father has done for he is a man of conviction, a true man.
People often say that me and my father are similar and to some degree it is true. We both have a similar idiom of "don't let the bastards grind you down" and we also have a similar approach to work. This also takes me back to a more recent barbeque in which my aunty, under the influence, stated "If you didnt look so much like your father I'd hit you. I can't really remember what I had done to provoke this but I must admit that the thought of "I thought i was better looking than him, actually did cross my mind." Vanity is one thing I dont believe we have in common. Which also leads me back to my point and the relevant above story. I do not believe, wait, I am not a man of conviction and I must admit that the opposite sex is my weakness. Blame it on my youth or the fact I really can't figure them out but I am not a man of conviction. A girl has cheated on me, a russian, and I wont go into the complicated details of that night in which I had almost knew that she would cheat on me and the night in which I only slept for stints of half an hour, and yet still had vivd and crazy dreams which Im sure there will be more of and shall be told on here. But after this I did take her back and not only that it was all back to normal except for the fact that we were back to "sort of" (a bastard of an ambiguous phrase if ever you needed one) which meant we could in her words be bad on weekends and when we went out but still see each other. And like a fool I accepted because by the night I missed her and wanted her back, to hold her hands and run my thumb across her knuckles (its always the stupid little things you miss the most). So I held my convictions for all of 8 hours when tested, granted I did care about her, more than I have any other girl, but nowhere near to the level of that between my mum and dad. My mum, thank god, has never cheated on my dad so his convictions have never been tested. I envy the Bravehearts out there who see things in Black and White and have such clarity of vision.
The parents are in there house in Spain now for what is now becoming a monthly event and they will hopefully retire there and live happily ever after.